


i'll put my future in you

by lumineres



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M, Mpreg, Mpreg Harry, Reality, baby's first mpreg, i really just want to give my 8 year old self a hug and apologize, im sorry if this is weird, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 00:19:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumineres/pseuds/lumineres
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> Male pregnancy is supposed to, like, not be a thing. It’s a universal truth. Men don’t get pregnant. But there he is, at the doctor’s office with a troubling ultrasound and a nervous boyfriend clutching his hand. </i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>or, the one where Harry defies all the laws of nature and gets pregnant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll put my future in you

**Author's Note:**

> i would like to apologize to my younger self for the person she's going to become
> 
> title from Small Bump by Ed Sheeran! title idea and betaed by the lovely [Ellie](boyfriendtattoos.tumblt.com) (LOOK I FIGURED OUT HOW TO GET LINKS ARENT U PROUD OF ME)

Male pregnancy is supposed to, like, not be a thing. It’s a universal truth. Men don’t get pregnant. But there he is, at the doctor’s office with a troubling ultrasound and a nervous boyfriend clutching his hand.

“Harry Styles, boy bander extraordinaire, I don’t know how you’ve done it, but you’re pregnant.”

Louis’ hand goes slack in his own, and there’s a thud and- yeah- Louis’ just fainted.

~

The first words spoken at the meeting are angry from Harry’s mouth, “I am not getting an abortion. Contract or no contract, I am having, and  _keeping_ this baby. It’s mine, and a phenomenon, you can’t just  _remove_ a phenomenon.”

The men in suits whose names Harry hasn’t bothered learning move the top papers from the prepared notes and arguments. Harry hates them a billion times more, for thinking that removing his baby was the best and first option. Not to mention the first known baby to be carried by a male.

Louis smiles up at him, no,  _beams_ , because the head honcho man has just said the only other option. Being, “You’ll just have to come out, I suppose, there’s no way to cover this up.”

~

The first article is laughed at, as expected. The initial reaction from fans is that “they’ll do anything to keep Harry in publicity” and “this is such bullshit”, except then after the first few hours, Harry starts seeing the tweets, “but guys this means he had sex with a guy” “GUYS THIS MEANS HE HAD A DICK IN HIS BUT IM SCREMAING”. Harry doesn’t understand why they’re all so happy about that, they are the ones who tweet him vulgar things they want him to do to them on a regular basis.

But there are still doubts, honestly, who wouldn’t doubt it?

So Harry has Niall take a picture of Louis kissing his still very flat tummy.

He posts it on Instagram with the caption “1 month :~) #dads #ourlittlephenomenon”

Everything explodes.

Scientists want to dissect him.

TV shows want to interview him.

The Westborough Baptist Church wants to burn him at the stake. Take the fetus out and burn it next to him. (Harry cries when he sees that, clutching his stomach and Louis clutching him, murmuring reassurances and promising him he won’t let them touch either of you.)

Paps want endless photos, especially of his man parts.

Fans want to hug him, and kiss him, (and fuck him?), and make him tea, and buy him baby jumpers. He loves them a lot.

~

Harry is two months along when the tour starts. The American leg has been postponed, because by then he won’t be able to go on airplanes or really do concerts or anything.

He’s posted his second Instagram picture, which Niall has taken for them again. The swell of his tummy is visible now, not too much, almost like a food baby, but it’s there and he loves it so so much. He wears tight shirts all the time to show it off, wants everyone to drool over his little baby. On the first show of the tour he lifts up his shirt and turns to the side, showing it off. Louis, of course, rolls his eyes fondly at him. “It’s barely even there,” he tells him, but Harry could not care less. Louis doesn’t either, just loves to give Harry shit for being such a sap.

(Louis’ more of a sap.)

At the second show, Harry throws up right on stage during Midnight Memories. The song continues, as Harry had adamantly instructed the band and the boys to do if this happened. Louis brings him his water bottle and a mint, and the resident vomit-mopper Victor gets a nice cheer from the fans.

“Morning sickness doesn’t just come in the morning!” Harry announces, settling down into the chair Louis collected for him. The fans scream in response, but who knows what that means- “yeah most of us are girls we know you uneducated twat” “harry you poor thing” “AHHHH”- sadly Harry doesn’t speak teenage girl as well as everyone thinks he does. Louis kisses his sweaty cheek and the fans scream again. (Not that they ever stopped, but it swelled.)

The set list is moved around so Little Things is next, so Harry can have a breather, and Louis sits next to him the whole time and sings to him, fingers splayed over the tiny bump.

~

That becomes a ritual. Every show during Little Things, Louis will hold the bump and sing to it and kiss Harry’s cheek. And Harry’s four months along when it happens.

Louis’ just started his solo when there’s a flutter of skin and a wriggle and a push. The notes die in Louis’ throat and his mouth hangs open. Harry’s jaw does the same and he presses his hands to his stomach alongside Louis’.

Niall’s picked up Louis’ solo for him, but the fans could really care less about the song at this point. Louis’ grinning and he’s put down his microphone now and his arms are wrapped around Harry so tight, and maybe he’s blubbering a little bit. A lot bit.

But it wasn’t real, until now, it was just a bump that grew in Harry’s tummy, but now it’s  _moving_  and it’s alive and thriving and  _real_.

After a few moments more of shock and being emotional, Louis picks up his mic again.

“He just moved! My baby just moved!” He nearly shouts, his voice cracking, and Harry feels the baby give another wriggle, like he’s excited to hear his Daddy’s voice. Or her. Why did they pick surprise again?

The fans go crazy, and Harry circles his arms around his little bump, and wonders if the baby is breathing in the love Harry is, wonders if the baby knows it’s going to come into a world where it will be loved by millions.

~

The European leg is over and Harry is five months along. He and Louis are doing an interview together (and members of that church are picketing outside and Harry cried when walking in but his cheeks are dried now and his baby can’t understand English yet, so none of it really matters.)

“So, Harry, this is all so…”

“Phenomenal? Fantastic? Amazing? Perfect? Incredible?” Harry offers. The interviewer laughs and flips her straight dark hair. Harry wonders if his baby will be beautiful, and then internally scoffs. Of course it will; it’s a Tomlinson after all. Harry’s a Tomlinson. He looks at the band on his finger fondly, doesn’t care he’s twenty. He’s a Tomlinson, that’s all that matters. He’s a Tomlinson with a baby Tomlinson in his tummy. His twitter handle has been changed to Harry_Tomlinson. Nothing matters but this wedding band and this baby and this boy holding his hand and sat on the couch next to him.

“You sound like a real proud mam- papa.” She corrects herself, “Which begs the question, what will you have the little one call you.”

“Well I’m Daddy.” Louis tells her, Harry tries not to swoon, remembering the recent escapade in which that name was used.

“I’ll probably be Papa. Or just Dad. Maybe we could both be Daddy.” Harry says.

Louis looks affronted and whispers to him, “You know I’m Daddy.”

The mics pick it up anyway and the interviewer clears her throat awkwardly.

“Papa then.” Papa. Harry does rather like it. Papa.

“So, Harry, tell us one thing we haven’t already heard about. C’mon, first morning sickness experience, any baby name ideas… you name it.” The interviewer says and shuffles her cards.

Harry thinks for a moment, looks at Louis, and looks back at her, “I’m rather regretting the butterfly tattoo. It’s a bit warped now.”

The audience laughs and Louis laughs and kisses his cheekbone.

Harry is so happy.

~

Harry is so sad.

He’s so  _big_. He’s so stretched out and his poor butterfly tattoo looks like it’s melted down his skin. He hates sweat pants and maternity clothes, and they’re all women’s clothes anyway. (He voiced this to Louis once and Louis told him that didn’t stop him from wearing lingerie. Harry gave him that point, and then a hand [job](http://www.tumblr.com/inbox).) (Louis won’t let Harry give him blowjobs anymore, says whatever goes into Harry’s stomach goes into his baby’s and he’s not giving his daughter/son a subconscious taste for come that they’ll discover when they’re fifteen and end up getting herpes of the mouth and- well Harry doesn’t know what, that’s when Louis had a nervous breakdown over it and Harry agreed- no blowjobs.)

But anyway. Louis’ out grocery shopping and Harry’s curled (or, as best he can) on the bed and crying into his pillow.

What if he stays fat? What if he’s a bad parent? What if the fans won’t love him now that he’s all… loosened? What if his baby hates him? What if Louis won’t love him anymore?

His baby, his little Pie (Louis coined the name after Harry could not stop craving apple pie), nudges his insides what could be reassuringly.

But like.

He got a death threat this morning.

Detailed and with illustrations.

And Louis wasn’t around to take it from him.

He’s going to bring this baby into a world that hates it, a world that thinks it’s a freak.

He cradles his six-and-a-half-month bump in his arms and wails about how sorry he is, how much he loves it and how  _so so sorry_ he is.

Louis comes home, hears this and runs to the bedroom, where he’d been expecting the worst. He doesn’t find it, but it’s close to it, and so he climbs on the bed and wraps himself around Harry as best he can until Harry’s wails turn to cries and his cries turn to hiccups and his hiccups turn to snuffles and he’s fallen asleep.

~

Harry is so  _huge_. Louis has to help him sit and get into bed and stand up. He’s eight months now, and he’s being induced in three weeks. He’s so, so scared. Well, he’s getting a c-section because how else is he supposed to do it? (Harry pushes the thought away, doesn’t want to think about it, and sends a prayer to all the women of the world who ever experienced or will experience vaginal child birth.) But like what if something goes wrong?

“Harry, love, time for the eight months picture.” Louis says. Harry nods and Louis helps him up. He waddles over to the picture taking wall and assumes the position.

“Harry, you’re proper pregnant.” Niall says.

“What! OH MY GOD I’M PREGNANT?!”Harry yells sarcastically and Niall sticks out his tongue at him. It’s weird how this has all become so normal for them, for the people around Harry all the time. Zayn greets him as “Hey, Preggers” and his contact name in Liam’s phone is “Harry & Pie (no swearing!!)”. Harry put in the last bit because Liam has picked up a cussing habit and even though Pie can’t read, or even see, Liam’s texts, he doesn’t feel comfortable swearing. Which is for the best, once they have an actual baby crawling around they need to clean up their act.

Louis gets down on his knees and Harry pulls up his shirt, glaring at the butterfly tattoo. Louis presses his lips just above Harry’s protruding belly button, and his scruff tickles, which of course makes Harry laugh and Harry laughing makes Louis’ eyes light up and crinkle around the edges.

Niall snaps the picture, and it’s Harry’s favorite picture to ever exist.

Apparently the world’s as well, as it’s the most liked Instagram picture in history after only twenty four hours.

~

The last picture is taken the day before they’re scheduled in at the hospital, and Harry’s nervousness shows in his face. (And hashtags.)

~

Harry sits up. It’s dark, but he doesn’t need light to feel.

“Louis. Louis, wake up.”

“Huh?” Louis groans.

“I don’t know how this works, but I do believe I’m having contractions.”

“You- wha- You’re- oh shit.”

Louis bursts out of bed and grabs the overnight bags and calls their doctor.

~

A baby girl is removed from the gaping hole that was once Harry’s stomach at 3:17 AM. Louis has already thrown up twice, and Harry three times (thankfully before there were sharp instruments in his guts.) But it’s worth it once they hear the cries of their little baby daughter.

~

Elise Mae Tomlinson is introduced to the world the way she was as nothing more than a little baby bump beneath Louis’ warm kisses; through Instagram.

“Elise Mae Tomlinson everyone! #dads #ourlittlephenomenon #sayhiellie” is captioned below a picture of a very flustered looking, exhausted Harry in his hospital bed playing with little Ellie’s hand, a tiny clenched fist wrapped around his pinky finger. Louis' mouth is open in a small 'o' and his eyes are wide, fingertips soft in the downy curls at the crown of her head. Niall had taken the photo when the nurse placed her in Harry’s arms for the first time, little curious eyes framed with long Tomlinson-eyelashes watching her parents. Harry’s smile is blinding, face splitting fondness for his boy and the bundle of warm baby that’s _theirs_ in his arms. Both her dads are staring at her like she’s the sun, an entire universe behind her eyelids.

It becomes the most liked Instagram picture in history.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments make me a happy camper!!!  
> feel free to talk to me on my [tumblr](youremylad.tumblr.com) or my twitter @zerrries (im far more likely to see u on tumblr i use it more often)  
> love you lots! thanks for reading!


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